


Keep 'Em Close

by Cheebo



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Assassins, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:20:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2416370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheebo/pseuds/Cheebo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Dirk Strider, and you're about to learn that there is nothing more incompetent than an assassin in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Early to Bed, Early to Rise

**Author's Note:**

> So kinda hoping this goes well. Let me know what you think. And I'll try to update it soon.

Your phone rang, waking you from your sleep. It took a few moments of _Barbie Girl_ playing before you noticed that it was _your_ phone, and that your little bro had changed your ringtone. Again.

“God dammit, Dave,” you muttered as you rolled over and stretched your arm out to grab you phone. “Dirk Strider. What do you want before the sun is even up?” You ran your fingers through your hair as you waited for a response.

“Mr. Strider,” the voice cooed, “I’d have thought you’d be a little happier to hear from me.”

You yawned into the receiver. “Not really. If you had called two hours from now, I’d probably be a lot happier.”

The chuckle from the other end was unnerving. “I love the Strider humor. Really, I do. But I have a job for you and your brother. Y’know, the one who _isn’t_ missing.”

You sighed and sat up in your bed. “Let me hear it, Connie. Lay it on me like butter on toast.”

“Dirk, you know that’s not how I work. Be at my office in, say, an hour?”

“That’s an hour away.” You said, your irritation almost bleeding through into your speech. “That’s not even fucking possible.”

“Well, I guess you should hurry then, or I may just give this job to someone else.” After that, she hung up.

You put your phone down and swung your legs over the edge of the bed. You and Dave really shouldn’t go. Bro went missing on a job from her. It really sucked when he just never came home. The waiting was endless, and eventually Dave figured out that he wasn’t coming back probably ever.

But you two needed the money, and she’s the only one who would hire you. Guess that’s the down side of being an assassin. You have to take what you can get, every last scrap. Politics, revenge, and secret agendas from clients you never saw. You’ve done them all. So you got your ass out of bed and walked over to Dave’s room.

“Get up,” you said as you flipped the lights on.

“Get out,” he spat back, “I was dreaming.”

“We’ve got a job.”

Dave sat up instantly. “Are you serious, bro?”

You nodded, a smirk sitting on your face. “Now get up. We’re running late. Connie said she’d give it someone else if we weren’t there in an hour.”

Dave laughed. “Man, she only ever calls when she’s got a job no one else can do.”

“Yeah, I know.” You started to walk out of his room. “But I’d also like to have this murder done by dinner.”

\---

“Careful!” You hit Dave on the back of the head. “You break my katana, and I’ll break your neck.”

Not that your katana would actually break. The air conditioning unit atop the apartment complex is more than enough evidence. All those strifes that you lost to Bro and Cal really took a toll on that thing. All of the letters of complaints are more than enough evidence for that.

“I won’t break your god damn sword. Calm down.” His shades were hanging from the collar of his shirt just like yours, and the street light was hitting his eyes at the right angle to remind you just how red his eyes really were.

You shook your head. “We have to leave. Get in the car.”

“I’m driving, right?” He winked as he hopped in the driver’s seat.

You scoffed. “You’re fifteen. You’re not driving.” You shoved him across the seats and clicked the keys into the ignition. You calmly began making your way to the highway.

He laid across the two remaining seats. “But Diiiiiirk. I want to driiiiiive.”

You looked at the dark circles under his eyes. He had probably been up until two working on music. “Man, you need your beauty sleep. You know how Connie is about that shit.”

He raised his eyebrows and glanced at you. “Well, then shouldn’t you be sleeping too?”

“Early to bed and early to rise makes sure your only other brother doesn’t fucking die. Now since I’m pretty sure you didn’t do the whole early to bed thing, you get to sleep. Nighty night.”

Dave muttered something inaudible, but he rolled over onto his side and quickly fell asleep, curled in a slight ball.

You blinked the sleep away as you yawned again. Crashing your car is really the last thing you wanted to do right then. If Bro were here, he’d be driving, and you’d be sleeping too.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. God, did you miss Bro. You missed him so fucking much. It would at least be better if you knew what had happened to him.

You mentally slapped yourself. This was ridiculous. You had to get your mind off of this, so you looked at the clock. It was 4:25, and you and Dave had to be at Connie’s in thirty-five minutes. You slammed on the gas. A hundred and ten miles per hour should be fast enough, right?


	2. Think It Through (Or Don't)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woohoo! Chapter numero dos. Hopefully, I'll get on a regular schedule for this thing. I want to try for every Saturday or Sunday maybe? And wow this is almost 2,000 words. Yikes.

You nudged Dave awake after you parked the car outside Connie’s building. It wasn’t nearly as conspicuous as you remembered it being. The neon pink sign and fairy lights were haphazardly strewn across the parking lot.

“Classy,” you muttered as you shook Dave harder this time.

He sat up finally and looked around, groggily rubbing his eyes. “I remember this place looking, I don’t know, not like shit.”

You slid your signature pointed shades on and shrugged, not responding to his comment. You hopped out of the car and started to amble toward the door. Another door slammed behind you followed by the patter of Dave running to catch up to you.

He put his aviators on and fell into the typical silent stride with you. The two of you pushed through the front doors and past the abandoned receptionist desk. Only the light from the street lights illuminated the first floor. It obviously wasn’t enough light considering you tripped on two different tables and the corner of a rug.

Dave laughed when you tripped on the rug. “Bro, how did you even become an assassin with that coordination?”

You glared at him, not that he could see it behind your shades, and shot back, “I could kill you, and you’d find out.” He held his hands up defense before pushing the button to the elevator.

It didn’t light up. He pushed it again. No light. “This thing is almost as turned off as you are when girls start talking to you, Dirk.”

“Looks like we’ll take the stairs then,” you said.

Then you flash stepped up to the third floor without waiting for your dick of a brother.

“Dirk!” Connie strode out of her office with her arms held wide, bangles jingling with every movement. “It’s wonderful to see each other again, isn’t it?” She smirked knowingly.

You rolled your eyes behind your shades. “Just great.”

Her laugh spilled out like the water of the glass she was dripping everywhere. “Dirk, I know you really love seeing me.” She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and began to lead you into her office. Her wavy black hair was stuck under her arm and tickled your face and neck with each step.

Behind you, laughter erupted. Connie let go and spun in an instant. “Dave!” The way his name left her mouth, breathy, made you uneasy. It was like she had a thing for him. Gross.

He tensed up slightly when she grabbed his wrist. She shot past you with Dave still in her hand. You chuckled slightly at your brother. Sucks to be him.

You walked in behind them and sat your ass in one of her pink leather chairs. Well, at least she could afford expensive things to sit on, if not electricity.

“Boys!” She spun her own hot pink chair around. “I haven’t had a job for you two in _forever_. And now I do. And it’s big!” Her smile stretched from ear to ear and seemed to glow in the dark. “It’ll pay more than all of your past jobs combined! And that’s with the 60% cut I get! Oh, I’m so glubbing excited for you two to do this job! Of course there will have to be –.”

Dave spoke up. “It’s all great you’re excited, but you’re leaving us in the dark with nothing, not even a fucking glow stick, to light the way.”

Connie began to shuffle through the mess of papers on her desk. “Well, I mean, the targets are a huge threat to our customer apparently.”

You nodded, pretending as if this were new information. Your victims were always “big threats”.

“Ah hah!” She held a piece of paper out to you, and you took it and began reading.

Dave was by your side less than half a second later. “What’s it say? Bro. C’mon! Let me know! How many zeros? ”

You shoved him back. “It would be easier to read if I didn’t have you breathing down my neck.”

“I wouldn’t be breathing down your neck if you’d just tell me.”

“You wouldn’t have to breathe down his neck,” Connie chimed in, “if you two would just agree to learn some magic.”

Both you and Dave looked at her, no reactions registering on your faces. Magic was not a Strider thing. There was Strider magic but that was a completely different thing used for _completely_ different reasons.

She rolled her eyes. “Calm down. I know you two fish in a different pond from most of society. Irony or something, right?”

Dave went to speak, but you cut him off. “We’ll do it.”

A sharp intake of air cued you off to your brother’s excitement. The shouts and giggles of glee let you know Connie was about to shit herself right then and there.

“When do were start?” Dave asked, one of his eyebrows rising above his glasses.

“Now!” Connie ushered you two out of the room.

Dave was already half way down the stairs when she called after you. “Dirk! You should be excited. I only used two puns.”

You nodded, not turning around. “I noticed you gave me a break from that.”

“Yeah, you’re going to be putting up with a lot of them pretty soon.”

You turned around, not exactly happy to hear that, but all that was in her place was a closed glass door showing her pearly white smile in a sea of darkness.

\---

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. I am not going to school,” Dave said, arms crossed.

You scoffed. “You don’t actually have a choice. Connie has it set up where you’ll be in school with the younger cousin, and I’ll be helping with whatever the older one does.”

He sighed. “Whatever. This is stupid.”

You did agree with him. This fucking sucked.

When you stopped for dinner, you had read the contract a little more thoroughly. Apparently, these guys were seriously dangerous people. One of them had killed every assassin sent at him.

The burger you were eating had lost all flavor when you read that.

You hopped out of the car and slung your bags over your shoulder. “C’mon. We should go meet our hosts.”

“Man, don’t say that.” Dave cringed. “We sound like parasites.”

You looked at him, almost dumbfounded by his stupidity. That’s exactly what you were right now. You were taking from these two, only to kill them later. _Literally_ god damn parasites. But whatever.

“They’re in apartment 6D. We have a lot of stairs to use.” You looked up at the building. The paint was peeling off of the walls and most of the windows on the main floor were cracked. Weeds were over grown onto the pathway leading to the door. This place was almost as shitty as this job.

You and Dave made your way up to the apartment and knocked. You heard some shuffling inside but no one opened the door.

Dave piped up while you waited. “Bro, what if they’re like fucking weird? What if they’re like those fucking grandmas who eat cat food and knit sweaters with no head holes and creep in your doorway right before you begin to do something incredibly sexy?”

You dropped your head back, closing your eyes. “Well at least you won’t have to worry about the last one. You’re never sexy.”

Before he could come up with anything clever to say, the door pulled open. A guy about your age –maybe nineteen – opened the door, quickly sliding his glasses on. His green plaid pajama pants pooled around his feet and his hair stuck up in every direction you thought possible and then some. “Good morrow! How can I help you?”

Your breath got stuck in your throat for a second. Jesus Christ this man was attractive.

Dave elbowed you and whispered. “Dirk, your gay is showing.”

You quickly recomposed yourself, though the boy at the door didn’t seem to have noticed anything odd. “Uh, is this apartment 6D? We’re supposed to be staying with a couple of people for a while.”

His eyes shot open half way through a yawn. “Jiminy Cricket! You’re here? Already? I haven’t a thing set up!”

You chuckled slightly, noticing his blushing. “Hey, man, it’s totally cool. We don’t need anything fancy.”

He opened the door wider for you and Dave. “We don’t exactly have all of the space in the world. I managed to get another bed in John’s room, but I wasn’t expecting you two until tomorrow, so the other bed isn’t put together.”

You saw the slight smirk on Dave’s face. John was obviously the one his age, and his name just automatically made him someone Dave had to fuck with upon meeting. It’s just so _typical_.

“Blazes.” The guy held his forehead between his thumb and index finger, obviously distressed by your arrival. His head snapped upward looked at you. Those eyes were _so_ green. “Heavens me! I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Jake. Jake English.” He held out his hand for a handshake.

You grasped his hand and shook. Nice grip. You wondered how that might feel elsewhere for a moment, but quickly shoved the thought from your mind. “This is Dave, and I’m the answer to all your prayers.” A small bit of pride built up inside of you. You were smoother than a finished piece of metal.

“So you do the laundry then?” Jake gave a small chuckle.

You laughed a little yourself. “Just don’t make me cook, man, and I think we’ll be okay.”

Dave coughed a bit. “So where can I drop my shit?”

“Tasteful, bro. Real fucking tasteful.” The sarcasm dripped from your voice with a little more than a dash of hostility seeping in there as well. Bro had taught you both to be polite – even to the people you were going to kill.

“You can put it in John’s room, second door on the left, and the punk who will not tell me his name can stay in my room for a bit.”

He showed Dave where his cousin slept, but the room was empty of any human being from the sight of it, but there could have been under all of that mess.

Then Jake showed you to his room. He had a huge white bed and apparently a huge love for guns too. Holy shit. So many trophies.

“Sorry about the mess, chap,” he said as he straighten the sheets on the bed a bit. “Truly thought it was tomorrow you all were coming in.”

You yawned. “Seriously, bro, it’s not a problem. Want to know what is a problem? The drive here is thirty-six hours, and I didn’t sleep. Talk about a danger to society, am I right?”

“Good golly! You need to sleep!” The concern on his face was cute. Jake rushed over and lifted the bags from your shoulders in a swift motion. “My house is your house. Or it will be after you take those silly glasses off and get some rest!”

“Okay. Okay.” You held your hands up, showing no resistance, before you stripped your shirt off and hopped on the bed. “Hey, look. We’re matching now.”

His brow furrowed as he looked down at his chest. He tensed and a blush colored his entire face. “Egad… I seem to, uh, have forgotten a shirt. My apologies, um –.”

“Dirk Strider.” You slipped your glasses off of your face, keeping your eyes shut. “And trust me when I say there is _no_ need to apologize.”

Jake forced himself to swallow. “Mr. Strider, I do say I think you need some sleep.” He turned tail and damn near sprinted out of the room.


	3. Yo Estoy Fucking Pissed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! Moody John. Joy, right?

You were sitting in the common area of the apartment with Jake, sipping coffee. He had been telling you about how great of a school system they had here and how Dave would really learn some great things and how the food was really great and a lot of other things that used the word great. As with most people, you weren’t really keyed into what was being said.

Not until the door slammed shut, and a black-haired boy walked in, head down, muttering a hello.

“Hello to you too, John,” Jake called after him as he went to his room.  Then he turned back to you. “He has been so moody about school recently. It’s boggling!”

You nodded. “Dave doesn’t want to go to school, so I guess they can do some bonding over that.”

“What the fuck?” John stormed back into the room. “Who the hell is in my room?”

Jake began to answer when a disheveled Dave walked into the room. “Hoe-la, seen-or.” He held out his hand for an introduction. “Me lama es Dave.”

John rolled his eyes. “That’s the worst Spanish I have ever heard.”

“No hah-blow in-glass.”

John took a deep breath, a small smile growing on his face. “Your accent sucks.”

Dave gasped. A hand grasped the center of his chest in mock offense. “That is just so fuckin’ rude!”

“Oh, that Texan accent was pretty good! I give it an eight.”

You wanted to double over in laughter, but you just sat there and smirked. Which was funnier? The fact Dave let the accent slip or the fact this kid thought it was subpar.

Dave swallowed (was it his accent or his ego you’ll never know) and spoke again, the accent gone, “An eight? Are you kidding me? That was golden. No, that was fucking platinum. That was such a quality accent that people trying to speak like that would use it as a god damn reference. That was so quality that NASA would use it in space to show aliens what Texas sounds like.”

John was leaning against the wall, tears welling in his eyes from laughter. “Oh my god. You’re from Texas, and don’t even try to tell me you’re not.”

“John!” Jake complained, “You know that is not how you treat a guest!”

You held your hand up. “Chill, man. I want to see this.”

Jake’s confliction between putting his foot down and respecting his guest’s wishes were pretty obvious, but he sat down and let the two boys keep mocking each other.

“You’re cousin is right, dude.” Dave nodded. “That’s fucking _rude_ , with a capital R and everything.”

“What?” John chuckled. “I just…think it’s kind of funny that you’re from Texas.”

Dave threw his hands up pretending to give up the shits he didn’t give originally. “You’re almost as bad as a Nic Cage movie.”

“Those are pretty great, so I don’t see the issue.” John shrugged. “You know what a better movie is? Ghostbusters. That movie is the shit.”

Dave smirked a bit and scoffed. “What’s shit is your taste in movies.”

John turned directly to his cousin, and, without any hint of a joke in his voice, said, “Jake, we have to kick him out.”

“We can _not_ ,” he responded, glancing at you. (You responded with a smirk, licking your lips just to see him get flustered.) Jake rolled his eyes instead. “Trust me. I gosh darn tried.”

You slammed backwards into your chair. “Well, now ya dun’ gone ‘n’ insulted both our prides!” The accent was so thick it was painful to hear. It’s not as if you were actually offended. Fortunately, it takes a bit more than abs and emerald green eyes to really get you to fall for someone. Though that smile and blushing habit he has may just do the trick…

Wait, what? No. That’s stupid. You’re here to kill this man not fuck him.

You stood abruptly. “I think my brother and I,” you said in a fake, wavering tone, “need some time apart from this toxic environment. C’mon, Dave.”

You both sped out of the apartment. The second the door shut, Dave turned a listened to what John and Jake had begun talking about, not that you had to be close to the door in order hear.

“I hate him, and his brother seems no better.”

“His brother is relatively…embroidered.”

“You fucking love his accent.”

“Excuse me, young sir?”

“Or is it the way he flirts with you? Maybe it’s the freckles!”

“I say! That is enough!”

“When you go getting your heart broken by this piece of shit, I don’t want to hear it. Neither of them are any good.”

Dave turned and frowned slightly. “Well there goes my first impression. Here you are seducing your target, and mine’s ready to kill me.”

You began strolling down the hallway, hands in your pockets. “You just have to choose a better time. Maybe at _school_.”

Dave bit the inside of his cheek. He totally fucked up his chances of being able to skip school. Hell, he _needed_ the school time to win John over. Eventually, Dave sighed. “I’m such a dumbass.”

“Yeah, man, you really are. But you’re smart enough to fix it too.” You were always conscious to not let Dave think he was a failure. You went through that, and no way in hell are you going to let your little brother go through it. (But denying the truth was not the way to go about it.)

He laughed a bit, and his brow furrowed. “Thanks, I think?”


	4. Cheesy Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It feels like it's been forever since I last updated, but it's barely been a week. Jesus.

You and Dave had returned to the apartment in time for a forced conversation and some ramen. Dave and John had made some progress past their earlier catastrophe somehow. Fucking up grilled cheese really can bond two kids you guess.

“So,” Jake started, “I would like to thoroughly –.”

You silenced him with a hand. “It wasn’t you. Or John. Dave is a little shit, and that’s that.”

He blinked, obviously formulating what to say. “But John reacted quite –.”

“As anyone in their right mind would,” you finished. “If I had been in here without warning, you’d probably have shot me.”

Jake nodded, a slightly bit of guilt residing in his eyes. “I guess I would have, chap.”

You chuckled. Damn, this guy could make any emotion look cute, couldn’t he? You rolled your neck and leaned back in your chair.

“Dirk!” Dave called from the kitchen. “You two done eating?”

“Yeah!” you hollered back.

“Toss ‘em!”

With a sigh, you leaned forward, grabbed the two empty bowls in front of you, and flipped them far over the back of your chair.

“Strider!” Jake lurched forward. He was far too late to stop you obviously. The deed was done.

You didn’t look over your shoulder to check if Dave had caught them. This had been such routine back at home when Bro was around. Both of you could do it with your eyes shut.

“Nice catch man!” The sound of the high five echoed in from the kitchen.

“Dickens, Strider!” Jake grasped his chest. “You gave me a heart attack!”

You smirked. That was as much indication you were giving that you were so far past mildly amused at his reaction.

“Man, does he always talk like that?” You heard Dave asked John.

“Yeah. He’s kind of…eccentric.”

“Oh, god. I feel that more than you fucking love Ghostbusters. Dirk is so obsessed with robotics he might as well be planning on becoming a cyborg.”

You tilted your head back to interrupt. “Damn, lil’ man! You caught me. That’s the real reason I wear these shades. I’m hiding my _sweet ass_ robot eyes.”

John laughed, and Dave could only reply with, “Fuck you, bro. Fuck. Uh-you.”

“Pretty sure that’s someone else’s job.” You wiggled your eyebrows at Jake.

That blush crept into his cheeks again. Fuck.

“John, Dave, would you mind coming in here for a moment?” Oh, Jake. Changing the subject. “I think I found Dave’s schedule in the mail.”

Both boys walked in together. Their faces were kind of red. Dave spoke first. “Ew. School.”

John solemnly nodded. “It’s terrible. God awful.”

“Both of you cool your choppers.” He shoved the envelope at John. “Just open it.”

John handed it to Dave, and he slowly opened it, trying to appear chill.

You bit your cheek. You knew what was coming.

Dave unfolded the paper.

Wait, for it.

His eyes scanned the paper.

They stopped. Jumped back up a line.

“ _I’m in fucking culinary?_ ”

John’s face lit up. “I’m in culinary too! They only have one period for that class.”

Dave turned and looked at John. “You’re in culinary?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“You’re in culinary, and you can’t even make a grilled cheese sandwich?”

Jake failed to stifle his laughter, and John looked lost in somewhat painful thought. Dave was straight faced, just as you were.

“Guess you could say my cooking skills weren’t on fire today.” He snapped his fingers into the dumb finger gun shape. You cringed.

Dave shook his head. “No. Your grilled cheese fucking was.”

John’s shoulders fell. “That was the joke you asshole. Anyway, what other classes do you have?”

“Well,” you stretched your arms and pretended to yawn, “how about you two finish this bonding in John’s room? I think Jake and I need to talk about some adult things.”

“Don’t fuck him too hard now. It’s only the first date.” Both boys laughed in the degrading way only high school kids could manage.

“Dave, leave.” And they did. They sauntered slowly around the entire room first, but they left eventually.

Jake had his face buried in a pillow. He said something that you decoded to be either, “I am so sorry.” Or, “I hate these kids.” Both you could second.

“So, that adult stuff, was actually where do you work?”

He lifted his eyes from the pillow, not answering.

“Well, I mean, that’s what I’m here for, right? Tell me if I’m wrong.”

Eventually, he pulled his face out of the pillow. “Yeah. That’s what the sheet said. I, uh, I work part time at a DJ station. I’m god awful at it, but the gun shop in town isn’t hiring. Neither is the range.”

You nodded. Music wasn’t really your thing. That was Dave’s area of expertise. “Y’know, back home, Dave has a sick pair of turntables. He makes some pretty good music.”

Jake smiled a little. “Maybe he can help John out with his mini-radio station that he’s trying to do. I think that’s what it is at least.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes scanned over even inch of his face, hovering on his green eyes. “Man, you look tired.”

He nodded and shoved his face back into the pillow. “Exhausted.”

“Why don’t you go to bed, Sleepy Beauty?” Ten points to you for the totally unoriginal nickname.

Jake yawned. “But I can’t leave you alone. You’re the guest.”

You stood up and grabbed his arm, lifting him up. “You’re going to sleep in your own bed, alright?”

His eyes were shut, and his glasses were askew. Jake simply hummed in agreement with what you were saying. How cute. It would be _really_ easy to just kill him right now.

You contemplated it for a moment as you guided Jake to his own room. It wouldn’t work. That’s not how Connie wanted it to go down.

You helped him into bed and removed his glasses. “Sweet dreams, English.”

“Good night, Strider.” He rolled onto his side and passed out faster than girls scream when the power goes out.

You ambled back into the common room and plopped down on the couch, tossing your shades on the table. You flipped the TV on and chose to watch a marathon of Scooby-Doo. The reasoning wasn’t nearly as ironic as you would tell someone if they walked in.

You just really fucking love Scooby-Doo.


	5. Blazing Hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This focuses a lot of John and Dave. And I am SO SORRY it took so long. I'm just terrible at schedules. I promise I'll get better.

You woke up to the smell of eggs and bickering. Your two least favorite things. As much as you’d like to say you got up and put an end to all the noise, you just rolled over and tried to drown it all out.

“Give me my glasses, John!”

“Y’all look at me!” You groaned internally. That was the worst Texan accent ever.

“I’m going to kill you!” Dave growled. Heh. If only John knew.

“Can’t kill me if you can’t see me!”

You sighed. God dammit. A guy just can’t sleep in peace, can he? You felt around for your shades, eyes still shut. Once you found them, you slipped them on and sat up. “John.”

He froze on his tip toes, arm stretched up, out of Dave’s reach. Well, out of Dave’s reach until he tackled John over. The consequential thud shook the whole room.

Jake sprinted out of his room, his hair sticking up just like it had the first day you met him. “What is –? Oh, for frigs flipping sake!” He held his head in his hand, looking down at the boys.

You chuckled slightly. Dave was pinning John. It was a battle that John had lost, but it looked more like the beginning to a make out session to someone who had just walked in.

You decided to address the most pressing matters at hand. “For frigs flipping sake?” You cocked an eyebrow and paired it with a smirk.

“Stop acting like a bone head. You know what I said.” Jake shoved Dave off of John and helped him up. Then, he turned toward the kitchen. “What is that stench?”

John’s eyes widened, and you’re sure Dave’s did the same. It was the typical “oh fuck” face.  You bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling.

Jake dashed into the kitchen. “ _JOHN!”_

John walked forward slowly, and Dave called after him, “I’ll pray for you.”

There was a good deal of yelling that included a lot of words you didn’t know even existed and a lot of “I’m really sorry”s.  It ended with John walking out of the kitchen with his head down muttering how they had to leave for school.

“So, uh, guess culinary really isn’t your best class, huh?” Dave joked as they left the apartment.

“You’re an asshole, and I want nothing to do with you.”

Have fun at school today, Dave.

You ambled into the kitchen, not quite sure how you felt about the morning’s events. “Good morning, Jake.”

He didn’t even look up from the sink. “Strider.”

His curtness caught you off guard. “You okay?”

Jake let out an exaggerated sigh. “Just peachy, chap.”

You inched closer to him. As the space between you closed, the amount of anger and frustration radiating off of Jake grew exponentially. You placed a hand on his shoulder and reached for the pan he was cleaning. “I can clean up in here if you want.”

Your hand brushed his lightly, and he took a sharp inhale of air. There wasn’t a pan in the sink. Just burnt flesh under cold water.

“Where’s your first aid kit?”

“We –.” he swallowed, obviously trying to keep his voice steady. “We don’t have one.”

You sighed lightly. Dumbass doesn’t have a first aid kit. “Well, uh, keep your hands in the water for now, okay?”

Jake nodded. He didn’t make a comment even though you were sure he already knew how to care for burns. You stripped off your shirt and laid it on the counter.

“You know,” Jake said through blatantly clenched teeth, “getting naked won’t help this situation.”

You chuckled. “I know, English. I know.” You wrapped a few ice cubes in your shirt and inched back over to Jake.  “Just hold this, okay?”

“Strider, you must think I’m bloody insane if I’m taking my hands out of this water.”

You smirked. “I know you’re crazy because you decided to grab a hot pan with your hands. Now, grab the shirt.”

He sighed and quickly latched onto the cold.

“See? It’s not that bad.”

“I’m not this dumb usually. I promise.”

You nodded slowly. His marksmanship definitely would make up for him being as dumb as a door nail. A thought occurred to you as you continued to examine his hands. “Maybe the hospital will have something you could use.”

“Strider,” Jake chuckled, “I do not need a hospital.”

You rolled your eyes. What is with guys and refusing to go to the doctor? Not that you don’t do it. The doctor is lame as hell. But burns were definitely something he needed _something_ for.

“Your aversion to going is proof that maybe you need more than just burn treatment. Maybe pop a couple pills of fucking common sense.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him along to your car. “We’re going.”

\---

Dave sat in class, clicking his pen in and out religiously. The teacher was talking, but to hell if he was going to listen to her. She barely knew anything about literature.

_No. That is not what an allegory is._

His mind started wandering. John was on the other side of the class. He had almost every single class with him. It was ridiculous. Dave was genuinely surprised John hadn’t thought it suspicious.

Dave put his head down on the desk. God, he had fucked up this morning. Why can’t he just stay on John’s good side? Why was that so hard for him?

Dirk was so good at all of his jobs. He was always home by dinner.  Hell, Jake –. A rough shake of his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts.

“What do you want?” Dave snapped as he lifted his head.

“I want you to repeat what I just said.”

God fucking dammit. Everyone was staring at him. He sighed. “What I just said.”

She glared at him. “You know that is not what I wanted.”

“Yeah,” he stretched out over the desk behind him, “but I refuse to listen to you ramble on incorrectly about literary devices.”

She crossed her arms. “You think you could teach this class better than me?”

“No, ma’am.” Dave shook his head, earning a small smile from the teacher.

There was silence. No one dared to speak. Finally, she walked away talking about an essay they would write soon.

_I know so._

The bell sounded, and she shouted over the roar of teenagers getting out of class that she would need a note to verify Dave’s “sensitive eyes” and allow him to wear his glasses inside. He waved her off and jogged to catch up with John.

“Motherfucker, there is no fucking way that is true.”

“It is! I swear.” There he was. Next to the walking sky scraper.

Dave grabbed his shoulder. “Found you.”

John shoved him off. “I thought I made it blatantly understood I really don’t want to talk to you.”

“Your favorite movie is Ghostbusters. Nothing is understandable about you.”

“Bros,” the sky scraper pushed you both a little farther away from each other, “there is no reason to get this motherfucking upset.”

“Yeah.” A kid wearing hipster glasses walked over. “That’s my line of profession. Vvery specialized.”

Dave held his hands up. “I’m not the one throwing a temper tantrum.”

John glared at Dave from the other side of his friend.

“Look, motherfuckers, school is over.” His head bobbed as he spoke. The kid had a killer fro. “Let’s go on a walk. A walk where you two fuckers don’t talk to each other.”

They did. The four of them walked off of school property and onto a little path in the surrounding woods where Dave found out John’s friends were named Gamzee and Eridan. Eridan was really into marine biology and this one girl named Feferi. Gamzee, well, he still wasn’t sure what to make of him. The dude was chill. Extremely artsy too.

He also learned things about John. He’s allergic to peanuts. His favorite color was blue. And his parents think he’s at some high end private school he flunked out of, but he was too afraid to tell them, so the checks they send go to helping Jake pay for housing him.

Later, around six thirty, Gamzee and Eridan had to leave.

Eridan nudged John. “Don’t go killing Davve noww. He’s almost kind of cool.”

“I mean,” John shrugged, “I’ll try my best.”

Gamzee tossed John a small baggie before driving off with Eridan. “Honk, honk, motherfucker.”

He looked at the contents of the bag in disgust. Dave peered over his shoulder. “That’s weed.”

“I know it’s fucking weed. I’m friends with a stoner. Did you think it would be oregano?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. You _are_ in culinary.”

 John chucked the bag at him. “Keep it. I hate that shit, but I don’t have the heart to tell him.”

“What makes you think I want it?” Dave asked.

John held out a hand. “I’ll take it back.”

Dave shook his head. “Hell no.” A drop of water hit his glasses. “Oh, fuck no. I’m not getting rained on.”

John chuckled to himself, and his glasses almost fell off.

“What’s so funny?”

He laughed harder, barely able to get the words out. “Guess _weed_ better get going then.”

Dave walked away from him. “I am done with you.”

“No need to be _blazing_ with anger now,” John said as he caught up with him.

Dave shook his head. “We’re going home now.”


	6. More Bullshit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeeze. I'm so sorry. It's been basically a month. I'm trash. (Obviously I'm writing this.)
> 
> But here you go! There's going to be a bit of a time skip after this. HOLIDAY THEMED STUFF IS COMING. (Hopefully, I'll post it before Christmas.)

You slowly inched the door open, hoping John and Dave were asleep. Maybe they passed out from the lack of food.

You led Jake inside and quietly shut the door. No one has said a word. Thank the lord.

“Do you _know_ what time it is?”

“We were worried sick!”

“Just where have you been?”

You hit your head against the wall. God damn it all. You turned and faced the two boys. John had his arm wrapped around Dave like an angry husband consoling his wife.

While you may have seen them, you certainly didn’t directly acknowledge them. “See, Jake? I told you they’d warm up to each other.”

“Well, in my view, gentlemen should strive to act as gay as possible around one another.” He smirked a little at his cousin. This was Jake’s underhand way of all the shit he had been getting from John.

But, you saw an opportunity.

You reached out and laced your fingers through his belt loops and pulled him until your hips were touching. Your noses were close, and you leaned forward, making yourself seem a tad taller than him. “Guess that makes me gentlemanly as fuck.”

“You are about as gentlemanly as a dog licking its own genitals,” Dave chimed in.

You almost lost it. You almost lost your Strider cool that had been perfected over nineteen years over one comment comparing you to puppy genitalia. You let go of Jake, and the three of them snickered behind their hands.

“But seriously,” John said, “Where were you guys?”

You faced him and answered, “Well your escapades from this morning managed to piss your cousin off so much he tried to burn his face off with the frying pan. Thankfully, I got there in time to stop him, but his hands,” you paused for dramatic effect, “were beyond my help.”

Jake nudged you with his shoulder, having been told by the doctor to stay off of his hands. “You blithering buffoon. We went to the hospital because good god frying pans are much too hot to be handled.”

“So,” John started once again, a smile inching the corners of his lips up, “what I’m gathering from this conversation is that you really are _pan_ sexual.”

Dave smacked him while both you and Jake groaned. This kid is bad at accents, cooking, and jokes. You came to realize this was why Connie tried to hold back her fish puns. Because – as she would say – this was _dam_ near unbearable.

“Do you two know what pain you put us through though?” Dave asked. “I legitimately feared for my life tonight because you two weren’t home.”

Jake and John both looked at him very concerned. You sat there wondering what bull shit was going to spill from the hole that was supposed to be where his mouth was.

“I mean,” he looked down, “John had to cook.”

John let out a huge sigh. “Strider,” he took the same bitter tone Jake had when responding to his desire to kick the two of you out, “I have just about had enough of you making fun of my cooking abilities.”

Dave’s shoulders tensed a bit. Don’t do it. He better not fucking do it. You would personally plan his funeral right after being the cause of it if he fucking said it.

“I think you mean lack thereof.”

He fucking did it. And the elbow to the gut he received had your personal blessing on it. At this point, “With Love From, Dirk and John” might as well have been written on it.

“I could not care less if Gamzee and Eridan liked you. I’m about ready to push you in front of a moving train and dance on your grave.” He stood up from the couch and stormed to his room.

“You’re a moron.”

“Dave, you do really need to be a bit more sensitive to John’s feelings. He’s been very touchy recently, okay?”

Both comments were met with silence and a steely resolve aimed at the coffee table. You waved your hand inches from his glasses. “Yo, anyone home?”

“I think I’m going to bed.” Dave didn’t wait for a response from either of you, but marched straight off to John’s room.

You sighed. The kid was going to beat himself up over it for days. Jake gingerly patted your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, bro. They’ll be getting along like a plug and outlet before we know it.” You noted the new word added to Jake’s vocabulary, but said nothing of it.

“I honestly hope neither of them is sticking anything in any of the other’s holes.”

“Confound it, Strider! You know what I meant!”

\---

Dave sauntered into John’s room, greeted with a hostile silence. Not that he honestly expected anything different. He threw the window open and began to slowly make his way up the fire escape to the roof.

“I’m such a fuck up,” he mumbled, “I can’t do one god damn thing correctly.”

Upon reaching the roof, Dave stood and surveyed what other inanimate objects were there to keep his company. An AC unit. A door. Some pipes. It was just like home. And as much as he hated lying around that dump doing nothing, he hated mucking around this dump messing up six ways until Sunday.

Dave brought his hand up just about to eye level. It shook like a seismograph in the middle of an earthquake. Which is to say he was shaking a whole lot.

He sighed as he walked over to the AC unit and laid his head against the cool metal. “I wish I could just do this right.”

Bro could sweet talk anyone. He could fight anything and win. He was the best assassin in the whole world. Dave and Dirk were supposed to be following in his footsteps, but at this point, it seemed like Dirk was the only one on track.

He balled his hands up into fists, his nails digging into his skin. “I can’t even tell anyone.”

His fist connected with the metal before he registered the fact he had decided to do so. Pain seared through his hand. But he punched again. And again. And again. Maybe he could break his hand if he kept at it like this.

The only thing that made him stop was the thought that if he broke his hand then Dirk would be the only capable person on this job. If he broke his hand, he’d only be more of a failure.

Dave sat on the edge of the building and shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets. He felt a plastic bag under his fingers.

“What on earth is that?”

After removing his shades, he took the bag out and examined it. Dave smiled slightly to himself. It certainly wasn’t oregano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. So I totally have a thing for Striders with anxiety. It's my head canon, and you can't change that. It just works so well, and I love it. Especially if you pair it with the whole Roxy/Rose parallel where Roxy is recovering from being an alcoholic and Rose is becoming one. Only here Dirk is learning to cope healthily with anxiety and Dave (obviously) isn't.


	7. Holiday Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is 4,000 words long because I am the most inconsistent piece of shit to walk this earth. Please enjoy! There is a link in the notes at the bottom. And hey! I told you it would be up before Christmas. Here's a gift!

After forcing the three of you to decorate the entire apartment for the holidays, Jake decided that John and Dave should invite some friends over to make up for completely wasting their Saturday. You were included in that at first before he realized he was the only person you knew. Oops. Socializing really isn’t a Strider thing. At least, not a _Dirk_ Strider thing.

Bro had no problem talking up people. And Dave – judging by how well he was getting along with that clown kid and his friends – seemed to be pretty good at it too.

Of course, John had invited his girlfriend of three weeks over too. You weren’t particularly fond of her, and that’s probably why you couldn’t remember her name for the life of you.

The doorbell rang as John was shoved off the couch to get “his girl” something to drink.

“Hope you don’t mind,” she hollered to Jake, “I invited a few more people. John said it would be okay, right?” She shot a look at John.

“Y-yeah. Of course, Vris.” He nodded far too many times far too quickly.

You glanced over at Jake. He was biting his cheek. Aw, how cute. He was _still_ debating with the whole be polite to your guest thing. You stood from the couch and answered the door.

“Oh, shit. I mean, shoot. We’re at the wrong place.”

“Nah. This is the right apartment, babe.”

“Why don’t you morons just fucking ask?”

You rolled your eyes before examining the group in front of you. A lanky blonde was hanging all over a stout brunette. Next to them stood a short kid with hair comparable to the clown that was already inside, and his friend was wearing what looked like cheap, homemade 3D glasses along with a scowl.

“Hello? Mister?”  A hand was waved in front of your face. Apparently, they had said something.

“Yes?”

“Is this John’s place?”

“Yes.”

You stepped aside to let them enter. There were loud greetings and conversations you didn’t really feel like listening into.

With a sigh, you sat back down next to Jake who seemed to be joining you in silence amongst the chaos. After a bit of silence, you decided to hone in on a conversation between the blonde, John, and his girlfriend.

“Roxy, I am literally so happy you showed up.”

“Of course, man. I wouldn’t miss this for the world. Like, I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Oh, I know. So you and Jane are a thing now?”

“Same as you and…her.”

“Look, if you didn’t want to acknowledge it, you didn’t have to. No one’s making you.”

“I’m here for John. Now shut up, Vriska.” Distaste rolled out of Roxy’s mouth like a ball of yarn rolled down stairs.

The only things you really gathered from that are the names of the three girls and the fact you were no longer the only gay one in the house. What a relief.

There was a silence amongst everyone for a split second. In that split second, Roxy had dug into bag and pulled out a bundle of something indistinguishable. Maybe it was some more food. Maybe alcohol? That would certainly help with how much you were hating this.

“Christmas hats for everyone!”

Or they could be Christmas hats. That would make a lot more sense. She strutted around the room handing them out to everyone. She even had enough for you and Jake.

The kids all ran off to John’s room to hang out almost immediately after. You stood up to begin cleaning.

“Strider,” Jake said barely loud enough to hear from the kitchen, “she went through the effort of bringing this hat over for you. The least you could do is wear it.”

You shook your head. “Don’t do hats. Same way I’ve never really done the holidays.”

He walked in and shoved it on your head with little to no concern for your shades. “I put up with an entire day of your whining and John and Dave’s bickering. I’ll be damned if you don’t wear this hat for five minutes.”

You sighed. You couldn’t really argue with that. The three of you had put up a fight all day. Your silence was submission, and Jake began to clean alongside you.

It was Jake again who spoke up. “Do you think Dave is dating Gamzee?”

“Who?”

“The kid with the face paint.”

You felt yourself almost dropped the plate you were holding, but Jake couldn’t have noticed, and nothing else gave any indication of shock.

“I mean, I could be as wrong as someone saying two plus two equals five, but I just noticed he seemed awfully calm around him.”

You sighed. “That kid is more likely to be his drug dealer than his boyfriend.”

“Dave does drugs?”

“No.” You picked up a couple more plates. “That’s my point.”

Jake nodded slowly in understanding. Or that’s what you hoped it was.

You placed another plate in the sink. “You want to stop cleaning up? Maybe watch some cheesy TV?”

“With every fiber in my being.”

A door slammed shut, and Vriska stormed through the apartment. Her hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white, and she was muttering something that sounded vile. Before either you or Jake could utter a sentence, she was out the front door, slamming it in her wake as well.

“Well, goodbye to you too.” You waved sarcastically at the door. You looked at Jake. “I’m not sad she’s gone.”

He smacked you playfully. “At least pretend.”

You opened up a cabinet and pulled out a small bottle of extremely cheap wine. “I’ll be much better at pretending if I’m drunk.”

Jake smiled and grabbed out two cups for you to drink out of.

“No wine glasses?” You teased.

He shook his head. “Not for dollar store quality wine.”

As you began to pour the wine, you said, “Eh. I guess that’s fair. Now go turn on the TV.”

You followed him into the room with your hands full of both of your drinks and the bottle. The first thing to pop up on screen was a version of Frosty the Snowman, the worst Christmas movie you had ever been forced to watch for irony’s sake. You placed the cups down on the table.

“Are you okay with this?” Jake asked sarcastically. He probably expected you to groan about it.

You winked at Jake and pulled him on to the couch on top of you. “I’ll be much better at pretending once I’m drunk.” You looked at the glasses on the table. “Shit. Could you pass me that?”

\---

Dave had managed to convince Roxy, the most charismatic person there in his opinion, to convince John to convince everyone to go up to the roof. And if you were to ask anyone when the party started, it was right then.

On the climb up, Dave had knocked on the window of another girl he had met up on the roof. She was super intelligent. Super macabre. And every time he had talked to her, super drunk.

“Ever had anything to drink?” Rose asked as she pulled some champagne out of a bag she dragged up to the roof.

Dave glanced at her sideways. “You always have the fanciest shit to drink, Rose.”

She simply shrugged. “What can I say? I fall victim to its calling every time. Now does anyone want any?”

Some people took sips, and others took swigs. And Roxy, the one person who Dave was sure would have wanted some, flat out refused it.

“Hey,” Vriska barked, “I’ve got an idea. Let’s play Truth or Dare. Get to know each other a little too well.”

She curled up on to John a little more and waited for everyone to agree with her. Or at least no one to argue with her.

“Gam, truth or dare?”

“Truth, motherfucker.”

Vriska bit her cheek trying to think of something to ask. “Fuck it. I can’t think of a good one. Are you dating anyone?”

Everyone groaned and began to talk amongst themselves, waiting for the obvious no.

Gamzee smiled whole heartedly and nodded. “I sure fucking am.”

“Wait. What?” Vriska sat up off of John.

“You’re dating someone?”

“Who?”

“How long?”

He motioned to zip his lips. “Last time I fucking checked, I get to ask one of you motherfuckers a question. So calm down.”

The people around him pouted and waited for it to be long enough for someone to ask him again.

“Roxy, truth or fucking dare?”

“Mm, truth!”

Vriska groaned. “Lame!”

Gamzee spoke up before either of them could get an argument going. “Are you any fucking good at cards?”

“What kind of a question is that?” Jane asked.

Gamzee answered almost bitterly. “One that was stopping murder, motherfucker.”

Roxy placed her hand on Jane’s. There was no need to get upset over a dumb question. “I’ll kick your ass at any game I know how to play, and that’s a fact.”

There was a slight silence, and then Roxy spoke up again, “John! Truth or dare?”

“Truth. Are you kidding me? I don’t trust any of you to pick dare.”

Roxy giggled to herself. “Don’t blame ya. On a scale of one to ten – one being please gouge my eyes out, and ten being I must have died because this is heaven – how happy are you dating Vriska?”

Vriska rolled her eyes and scoffed. What kind of a question was that?

“Uh,” John scratched behind his ear, “can I choose dare?”

She sat up. “Excuse me?”

The entire group held their breath. Dave could have sworn he saw Karkat and Eridan praying for him.

John held his hands at chest level, palms facing outward. “What? I just didn’t like the question.”

“Didn’t like the question or don’t like me?” She spat.

“I-I never said I didn’t like you. C’mon. Calm down.”

Dave bit his tongue. If there was anything he had learned the hard way, it’s to not tell an angry girl to calm down. And by the way fire just about spewed from her ears, John was about to learn the hard way too.

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down. Or maybe I should say clam down. That’ll probably make you happier than dating me.”

“Vris. C’mon.” He reached out to pat her shoulder.

She shrugged him off and stood up. “No. You know what. I’m going to leave. Not point in staying around where I’m not wanted.”

Everyone sat in a tense silence as the fire escape clanged with Vriska’s rage as she descended back into the apartment.

“Sayonara, bitch.” Roxy cackled as soon as the fire escape stopped shaking.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Jane looked down at Roxy, who had sprawled across her lap like a cat. “You just ended a relationship.”

“Oh, c’mon. John was basically begging me to do that.”

Dave looked at John. “Really, Johny boy? The planned assassination of your first relationship. You make me so motherfucking proud.”

John hesitated before responding. “I mean, that wasn’t exactly what I meant by help me break up with her, but it was effective I guess. She didn’t break my legs.” He rolled his shoulders back. “And on a happier note, Dave, truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I dare you to sing Toxic by Britney Spears.”

He nodded solemnly. “How about I just play you a mix I made of me singing that?”

John looked dumbfounded. “You actually sing?”

“No.” Dave replied. “I just go to school dressed like I’m obsessed with music because I’m a wannabe hipster.”

Rose shrugged. “I kind’ve thought you were copying purple boy over there.”

“My name is Eridan.”

“Shush up, Mr. Purple.” Roxy waved her hand in his direction. “I actually want to hear this mix.”

Dave slouched dramatically. “And here I thought we were going to just forget about this and continue to insult my fashion sense.” He pulled out his phone and searched through it for a minute before placing it in the middle of the circle and having everyone lean in a little too close for his comfort.

Once it ended, a few people clapped, and everyone seemed thoroughly impressed.

“Well, I was trying to get something really funny, and ended up finding out you can really sing. I’m almost kind of disappointed.”

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

“You’re a pubescent boy,” Karkat said.

“Of many talents. So many talents, in fact, that infinity isn’t big enough to contain how many talents I have.”

“Is one of your many talents being an insufferable sack of shit?”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

\---

You and Jake ended up switching to a horror movie instead of continuing listen to Frosty the Snowman not just talk but _sing_ about magic hats. While you must admit you were mildly disturbed by the movie you had switched to, Jake was downright mortified.

Bro had prepared you and Dave for killing and all the blood that came with it. Jake could probably barely kill a bug.

His mortification wasn’t necessarily a bad thing either. It had led to him recoiling from the screen and curling into your chest. It also led to him sneaking into your room and asking if he could stay with you for the night, which led to him falling asleep nearly instantly, and you being pinned under him when he turned over.

 _Barbie Girl_ began to blare, and you groaned. Dave did it _again_. You reached out and grabbed your phone. Your phone which wasn’t vibrating.

You heard Jake mutter, “Confound him.”

“Wow, Jake. I didn’t know you liked Barbie. We could have watched that last night instead or scaring you shitless.”

He threw a pillow at you as he sat up. “Good morning to you too.” He picked up his phone, and answered. “English speaking.” Jake glanced at you through the darkness. “Hold on one second. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

He left, and while your curiosity pulled at you like a dog playing tug o’ war, you resisted eavesdropping in on what was obviously a private conversation. It was probably John’s dad calling to check in or something.

Jake came back into your room, and you could only describe the glimpse of his face the hall light allowed you in one way, the repressed urge to rip someone’s throat out.

You grabbed your glasses and sat up, slipping them on. “Are you alright?”

“I’m going to go make breakfast.” He turned and left.

“Obviously not,” you muttered to yourself.

It was five in the morning. You should probably go calm him down. But the pillow seemed very inviting. You laid back down. He could deal with whatever made him angry. You were sure of it.

Maybe thirty seconds passed when you realized morals won the debate, and you begrudgingly swung your legs over the edge of the bed.

You sauntered into the kitchen in time to hear a string of curse words so artfully strung together that Blink 182 should have used it as a lyric.

“Wow. You’ve managed to surprise me twice within five minutes. I think it’s a record or something.” You saw what he had been cursing to hell and back. There seriously must be something with this family and burning food when they’re angry. You took the pan from Jake and took it over to the sink.

“Strider! That’s really…hot.” Jake paused. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

You began to scrape egg from the pan. “Not as much as it probably should. I’ve got an insanely high pain tolerance.” Of course you wouldn’t tell him _why_ it was so high. He’d kick you out.

“You should go back to bed, you know. It’s too early for you to be up.”

“Then it’s certainly too early for you to be burning food trying to make breakfast for people who shouldn’t even be awake yet.”

Jake huffed. “I got distracted.”

“Gee, who’d have thunk?” You let go of the pan and turned to face him, leaning against the counter. “So level with me. What’s got you so worked up at five in the morning?”

There was a long hesitation, and if you didn’t know Jake any better, you’d think he was considering lying to you.

“I just need to talk to John about something.”

“Is he going home?”

“To be honest,” Jake sighed, “he probably should.”

You grabbed some orange juice out of the fridge and sat down on the floor. “Now, c’mon, English. You’re making this whole helping you feel better thing pretty damn difficult.”

“I just really shouldn’t tell you. You’d pack up your luggage and leave more abruptly than you arrived.”

You stretched your legs out until you felt your feet hit the small island in the middle of the kitchen. “We sat through a half an hour lecture about not using ice to treat burns. I helped you choose even shittier pop music for your part time job. Jake, you trust me enough to sleep in the same bed as me after my blatantly sexual comments over several dinners. And you really think that dumping some personal shit on me is going to make me run for cover?”

He sat down across from you, his feet resting against the fridge. “I made a lot of enemies in the past, alright? And the people I made enemies with were not good people to make enemies with.”

You scoffed. “What did you do? Sell drugs?”

“Really?”

You held your hands up. “I’m sorry. Not the time.”

“But, yeah. That’s the sum of it, and they keep sending people out here, and I,” Jake’s voice quivered, “I don’t know what to do about it. No matter how much I try they don’t stop.”

Your stomach dropped. You knew exactly what this was. “What does that have to with the phone call?”

“A, uh, friend caught word of it and gave me a ring.”

Your heart did that thing where you think that a stair is there but it isn’t. Only about a million times in a row. “There’s another one?”

“Two.” Jake slammed his head into the island. The bang was so loud you were surprised John and Dave didn’t wake up. “And – and these guys have never failed.”

You spun around and sat next to him. “Hey, now. There is no need to get so worked up over this. There’s a first time for everything. Watch you be their first failure.”

“B-but…”

You pulled Jake into a tight hug, and something warm met your shirt. He was crying. “No. Shh. It’ll be okay.”

He looked up at you. “How can you be so sure?”

You swallowed. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“I hate to break it to you, but a few sarcastic comments won’t send them to the hills.”

You chuckled. “I hardly hoped so.”

Jake hugged you tightly this time. “Dirk, you truly are amazing. Thank you.”

His words knocked the wind out of you. “Yeah. Don’t thank me yet.”

\---

                They both werelaying down on their respective beds. Dave had his hands tucked behind his head, shades off, and was gazing out the window at the street lights. John, on the other side of the room, was curled up on his side, glasses off, and trying burn a hole into Dave it seemed with the intensity of his stare.

“So you’re dating Gamzee?”

“Yup.” Dave gave a slight nod.

“You probably could have dated anyone at our school, and you chose the stoned sky scraper.”

He closed his eyes like a parent trying not to lose his patience. “It’s not what you think.”

“Look, it’s not my job to police your love life, but he’s not someone you want to get involved with. End it.”

“Don’t even act like he hasn’t blown up on you.”

A guilty swallow followed by more silence.

“Believe it or not, but I’m trying to protect you.” John propped his head up on his arm.

“Believe it or not, but I’m too scared to do it.”

He sat there, shocked. Perhaps astounded would be the word. Whatever the case, it was John’s turn to be silent.

“And I mean, it’s not his fault.”

“That’s bullshit, and you _know_ it.”

Dave hesitated. “I – I mean, you should have heard what I was saying.”

“What? Did you want to hang out without him? Maybe not go smoke some weed?” The bitterness in his voice was thick. John was not happy with the situation at hand whatsoever.

But Dave only responded to his hostility with the silence that had been far too common in the conversation.

“When he’s not high, he’s a fucking menace. He’s terrifying.”

Dave continued to watch out the window without a word.

John’s voice softened. “Are you okay, man?”

“So where’d you get those bruises you cover up every morning?”

“Not from my girl – my _ex_ -girlfriend. Not from anyone I’m emotionally connected to.”

“Where do you get them then?”

“Stop changing the topic.”

Dave raised his eyebrows. “Believe it or not, but I’m trying to protect you.”

“Believe it or not, but you’re an asshole.” John flopped back down onto his mound of about a hundred and one pillows.

“It’s six in the morning. Let’s get up.” Dave grabbed his glasses from the nightstand between them.

“We’ve been up.”

“I mean, let’s go make breakfast for Gay and Gayer.”

“Which one’s which?”

Dave slipped his shades on and slipped out of bed. “Does it _really_ matter?”

\---

The two boys snuck into the kitchen to meet platefuls of pancakes and a kitchen covered in batter. A mess of your and Jake’s making.

John leaned closer to Dave and muttered, “I think Gay and Gayer beat us to the whole making breakfast thing.”

“Thank you, John, my dear boy. I would never have been able to solve this mystery without you.”

You and Jake popped up from behind the island in the kitchen. “Merry Christmakkah!”

“Christma-cock-uh?” John stared at the two of you. “Did you just make Christmas into a dick joke?”

“Christmakkah!” Jake exclaimed again. “It’s what we’re going to call the rest of December because the Striders celebrate Hanukkah.”

“Hate to break it to you, Dirk, but one night of a holiday party doesn’t make us religious.

You shrugged and felt the drying batter caked in your hair. That will be a bitch to get out later. “I panicked and said we were Jewish.”

“Try more like Jew,” he paused and smirked slightly, “ _ish_.”

John almost broke down into tears laughing. That’s not to say you didn’t chuckle, and Jake wasn’t following his cousin’s lead.

You were the first to compose yourself of the four of you. “But, John, Jake needs to talk to you. Dave and I will take a walk. You only get the pancakes after you can suffer through his lecture.”

You grabbed Dave and yanked him out the door.

“Calm the fuck down, bro. What’s wrong?”

You pulled him close to you. Way too close for either of you two to be comfortable. You were about to speak when you smelled…alcohol? “Are you hung over?” You asked as you pulled back.

“I am not hung over.”

“You’re totally hung over!”

“I’ve gone to school while hung over. I am _not_ hung over.”

“This is an entirely different conversation to have not now.” You lowered your voice. “They know.”

Dave scrunched his face up. “They know…?”

“They know that we’re here to kill them.”

“They know?!” Dave’s voice rose. He was almost shouting.

“Shh. Well, kind of. They don’t know it’s _us_. They just know someone is coming for Jake.”

Dave looked at the door behind you two. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand then. Literally.”

“We can’t.”

“Since when did a few extra casualties hurt anyone?”

You pinched your nose. You could not explain this to him right now. You couldn’t even rationalize it to yourself. “We just _can’t_ , okay? Be extra careful, and we’ll be fine.”

You knocked on the door and hollered, “You all done in there?”

“We’re ready to eat!”

You pushed inside, ignoring the hole Dave was glaring into your back. “It’s pancake time!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song on Dave's Phone ==> http://beanie-enthusiast.tumblr.com/post/104938816628/gooberjammin-for-future-reference-lowered
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the underdeveloped relationship(s) I introduced and/or ended.


	8. Must Be the Spring Air

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I'm not dead, and I'm so fucking sorry that this has taken over a year. especially since I've had these next two chapters typed up for a while. I just wanted to give you guys something longer for the wait, but I just do not have time to write long chapters with in short periods of time. 
> 
> If anyone still follows this, would you please let me know if you would like shorter more frequent updates or longer waits for longer chapters?
> 
> Thank you!

Not much had happened to you over the winter. Sure it snowed. Sure you all went sledding. Sure Dave got bucked into a snow drift. But nothing _major_ happened. Honestly, it was scaring you.

And on this beautiful spring afternoon that you were enjoying from inside, you found out why. It happened while Jake was asking your opinion on the shorts he had just bought from Goodwill. Probably from the girl’s section based on how short they were.

The bass drop from some dubstep song you didn’t bother to remember the name of sounded, and your phone lit up. That was Connie’s ring tone. Great. You held a finger up to Jake as you answered.

“Go for the most amazing man you’ll ever meet.”

She scoffed. “You’re hardly a man, Dirk.”

You voice verged on bitterness. You hated this lady. “What do you want?”

“I figured it was time you and your brother started wrapping your job on up. Kill your targets.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “What?”

She was gone.

Jake was staring at you intently.  “Are you alright?”

You placed your phone down gingerly on the table despite every fiber in you wanting to break something. “I’m fine.”

He nodded, believing that you weren’t seething internally. “So these shorts -.”

“Let’s go out.” You stood and grabbed his hand.

Jake stumbled after you, trying to find words that made sense. He decided on, “Why?”

“I want to go out.”

Jake pulled his hand from you. Your heart dropped when he did. “No.” He crossed his arms. “Strider, tell me what’s going on right now.”

You didn’t even intend to say what came out of your mouth next. “You’re the human form of a puppy, and while I don’t like dogs, I sure as hell like you.”

Your stomach dropped through all six levels of the god damn building. _Fuck_.

Jake’s lips parted slightly. He blinked a few times before he attempted to clean his glasses as if that affected his hearing. “Strider, did you just…?”

“I did.” To hell if you’d let Jake think you messed up. “And what do you say?”              

He stumbled over his words. “I mean -. I, uh -.”

“It starts with a ‘yuh’ and ends in an ‘es’.”

Jake’s cheeks turned rosy, and he glanced away. “I always thought those comments were just comments.”

You snickered. “You and me both. Now, am I going out alone or no?”

Jake looked up at you grinning. “It would be a shame to let such a handsome young man roam the streets alone.”

Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest. Holy fuck he said yes. Holy shit. You couldn’t believe it. You had a boyfriend.

Correction: You had a target.

Correction 2.0: You had a boyfriend.

You pushed the thought from your mind. You had promised to keep Jake safe, and you intended to keep that promise. You latched onto Jake’s hand and yanked him out the door to the apartment.

\---

Dave and Gamzee strolled down the hallway hand in hand. Dave’s chest was pounding like someone slamming books down in anger. He was afraid Gamzee would hear it. What if his cool broke?

“You’re pretty fucking cool, Dave.”

“Thanks, man.”

“I’ve got a motherfucking  question for you though.”

Dave clenched his other hand into a fist. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you give me those long answers you give every other fucker on the planet?”

He shrugged. “I think you’re too good for that.”

Gamzee stopped walking. “Tell me the motherfucking truth.”

Dave turned to face him and lied. “That is the truth.” What was he supposed to do? Tell him that he was terrified of him?

Gamzee stooped down and leveled a blank gaze at Dave. “I’m going to ask you one more time.”

He felt himself shaking. The back of his throat burned slightly. “That _is_ the truth.”

Gamzee rose to his full height again, forcing Dave to look up at him to see his expression. He licked his lips slightly. “I’ve told you _not to fucking lie to me!_ ” He shouted at his boyfriend. “Again and again. Over and fucking over. I used to think you were the best motherfucking thing to ever happen. But you just treat everyone around you like shit, and no wonder John doesn’t like you.”

Dave’s façade broke for half a second. John still didn’t like him? What about everything that happened over break?

Gamzee scoffed. “Oh, did you not know? Eridan. John. Roxy. Karkat. Everyone hates you, Dave.

Dave stared at the empty hallway in front of them. He was wrong. He had to be. There’s no way. That couldn’t be true.

“I’m the only motherfucker who ever actually enjoyed your company, and now I’m not even sure I fucking enjoy that.”

Dave walked away from Gamzee. He was silent. He was hurt. He was trying not to cry.

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me!”

He turned around and tossed a small bag to Gamzee’s feet. “Maybe it’ll calm you down.” He continued walking without looking back.

Dave shook with each step, and his knees threatened to give out under his weight. After six months of dealing with Gamzee, was it over?

He pushed the school doors open and kept walking. Nobody liked him. Not John. Not Gamzee. Not Eridan. Rose probably didn’t even like him.

He wanted to fight someone. Maybe it would distract him from what had just happened.

Dave walked for a while, his intended destination unknown. His gaze stayed perpendicular to the ground until shouting and groaning sounded in his ears. He looked up to see a group of boys about his age untangling themselves from one another.

“Beaver Boy’s got magic, huh?” One of them chuckled.

“No one tell Joanie I owe her money,” another said as he staggered to his feet. “Let’s go see if he can pull his ass out of a hat.”

The group dashed back into the side street they had been thrown from. Dave sauntered after them. Maybe he’d get caught in the crossfire.

He turned a corner after the boys and saw Beaver Boy cornered against a wall. He saw John cornered against a wall.

John’s eyes darted in every direction looking for a way out. He really didn’t want to keep using his magic. It’s not really something he was _supposed_ to be using anyway. His eyes widened slightly when he spotted Dave. Why was he here? He could get hurt!

A rock slammed into his forehead. He shouted in surprise and pain. Rock after rock was pelted at him.

“Hey!” John shouted as he tried to shield his face with his arms. “Hey! Stop it! I don’t want to fight you guys! Hey! Stop!”

Dave inhaled quietly. There must have been something with the spring air that made the Striders speak before they thought. “Hey, asswipes, didn’t you know it’s immature to show your affection so violently?”

They turned around to see who had spoken. “The fuck do you want?”

“My roommate.” He nodded toward John, who had lowered his hands and was waving for Dave to run.

The group exchanged glances before dropping into fighting stances. “You’re about to regret this, Mr. I’m-So-Fucking-Cool.”

Dave held a finger up. “One-on-one?”

“Not if you want your precious beaver untouched.”

John muttered to himself about the comment. Dave smirked slightly. “That would have been too easy.”

He flash stepped behind the group and knocked two of the five boys off of their feet with one swift kick. They flailed in an attempt to get to their feet, but he slammed an elbow into the back of both of their necks, jumping backwards to avoid the punch one of the other had thrown his way.

He gestured with his hands for them to make the first move toward him. One boy charged at him, earning himself a right hook that sent him crumbling to the ground. His nose was most definitely broken.

Dave cocked his head slightly. He now stood between them and John. He was now also cornered. Two more of the boys ran toward him, avoiding his original blows and landing a punch in his stomach and kick to his ribs. He couldn’t breathe when he ducked to avoid the next punch. He caught the ankle of the foot that came flying at his face and twisted it hard to the left. The owner cried out in pain and hobbled away from the fight.

Dave hopped to his feet and attempted to punch the only one close to him. He grabbed Dave’s wrist, stopping the punch from landing, but allowing Dave to twist his arm outward, almost dislocating the boy’s elbow.

The boy didn’t retreat though. He round house kicked Dave in the side, knocking him over. His glasses fell off when his head hit the ground. He kicked Dave in the stomach again. Dave looked up at his opponent, fury in his eyes.  Upon seeing his eyes the boys fled, screaming something about the devil.

John walked over to Dave, who did have a few bruises forming in places no one should find anytime soon, and went to help him to his feet. Dave shrugged him off and reached for his glasses, slipping the scratched lenses over his eyes. He struggled to his feet alone and began walking, limping only slightly.

“H-hey,” John staggered after him. “I, uh, thanks.”

Dave didn’t respond. His lips were in a fine line, and his gaze stayed pointed at the ground.

“I can get you some ice for your lip if you’d like.”

He wiped the corner of his mouth gently with his wrist, and sure enough there was blood. He wiped it again.

“Hey, Dave, talk to me.”

“Why?”

John hadn’t been prepared for the question. “What? What do you mean why?”

“Why should I talk to you?”

“I – I mean, you don’t have to, but I mean, uh, n-never mind.”

Dave’s façade broke for a split second. “You don’t want to talk to me. You don’t like me. It’s no big deal.”

John stopped walking. “Don’t like you?” He muttered to himself. He looked to Dave. “Where on Earth did you get that from?”

Dave kept walking, ignoring him.

“It was Gamzee, wasn’t it?”

Dave stopped. “He just pointed out the truth.”

“The guy’s a manipulative asshole. I’ve been trying to distance myself from him.”

His brows furrowed. John had been staying away from Gamzee? “Then why have you been avoiding me at home?”

John scratched the back of his head. “I figured it would a pretty dick move to make a move on someone’s boyfriend.”


	9. Gay and Gayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter after that ridiculous hiatus. Seriously, I am so sorry.

Jake struggled to fit the key in the lock to the apartment with the one hand he didn’t have entangled in yours. You had takeout in your other hand, and as you ambled into the apartment, you saw a sight that you had never thought would happen.

 “Do my eyes deceive me? Is the world coming to an end?” You cried out, dropping the food to the floor and falling dramatically.

Jake’s attention fell to you. At first, concerned. Then, confused. Finally, frustrated at your theatrics. “You dropped our dinner.”

You latched onto his ankle. “Look at my brother. One of my own kin. Holding hands. With a _boy._ ”

John raised an eyebrow, and Dave held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “Wait for it.”

You hopped to your feet. “Well, it’s about damn time you two figured your shit out. The sexual tension was just so _awkward_.”

“Strider, you made sexual comments your first day of arrival. I wouldn’t be so apt to be flapping your gums.”

Dave rolled his eyes. “Do I not get confetti? No streamers? I thought there would at least be fireworks.”

“Fireworks are illegal here,” John told him.

He dismissed his comment with a wave. “The legality of situations has never concerned me.”

John snorted. “Based on the fact I think you broke a kid’s nose today, I kind of figured.”

Jake’s eyes widened. “You did what?”

“Look, he was just –.”

Jake broke into a giddy grin. “Oh, I knew someone in this house hold had to be as gung-ho about the thrill of the fight and adventure as I am!” He seemed to vibrating with excitement.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You sure enjoy violence for someone who has slept in my bed because horror movies made him wet himself.”

John chuckled. “Jake? Scared of horror movies? What drugs are you on?”

Dave bit his tongue to stop himself from grinning along with the cousins. You had been duped. Big time. Not that you could say you minded.

You looked to your boyfriend, awaiting a response. He glanced off to the side, his tongue tracing across his teeth. “You think I’d be afraid of anything with as good as a shot I am?”

Your mind flickered back to a certain conversation that had happened on a certain kitchen floor about a certain pair of assassins. You said nothing of it.

“Oh!” John piped up, sounding a tad upset. “I also kind of accidentally showed Dave the thing I can do.”

Jake looked at his brother blankly. “The windy thing?”

His cousin nodded.

“How do you _accidentally_ show someone the windy thing?”

You and your brother exchanged a glance from beneath your shades. Found out which one has magic.

Jake began tapping his foot impatiently wile John fumbled with words. He didn’t exactly know how to tell Jake that he’d been getting bullied, so he just hadn’t, and he honestly hadn’t intended to. You noticed the slight fold in the corner of your brother’s mouth that indicated he was in a bit of pain. John must have one hell of a grip like his cousin.

“Motherfucker!” Dave exclaimed, his unoccupied wrist now held up to his mouth.

Jake was perplexed as to what had caused such profanity, but you smelled it immediately. “Dave why’re you bleeding?”

Dave wiped his lower lip, smearing crimson across his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

John grimaced at Dave, and wiped at his own lip as he spoke. “I hate to break it to you, but you, uh, you got a little something.”

You flash stepped over to Dave and lifted his ass off of the couch by the collar of his shirt. “Why are you bleeding?” You knew that he broke a kid’s nose, but that didn’t matter. Dave never got himself hurt, and you were worried out of your mind.

John held his hands up. “H-hey, Dirk, it was five on one. I’m surprised he even -.”

Dave’s head tilted back, and when he made eye contact with you, all you could see was fear. An emotion that certainly didn’t match how he spoke. “I misjudged shit. Is that a crime?”

You shot John a look of anger that wasn’t really directed at him, but was more of a culmination of a lot of emotions that right now could only be expressed as anger. “Five on one? Yeah. Do you _think_ maybe you misjudged? Did you even once think of the consequences of your actions?”

Jake spoke from behind you. “Strider, you need to put him down.” His tone wasn’t meek. It wasn’t the ‘guests come first’ tone he typically used.

His shirt slipped out of your fist. Before anyone could say anything more, you were in Jake’s room, the door slamming behind you. You ripped your glasses off and threw yourself on his bed. Your heart was pounding everywhere. Your throat. Your head. It was making your stomach do flips. You ran a hand through your manicured hair and exhaled shakily. This was not the time to be having an anxiety attack.

Logically, you knew nothing was wrong. He was alive. He was right there, bleeding, but not broken or dying. But what if things had ended so much worse? Yeah, he’s a trained assassin, but -. There was a knock on the door.

“Strider, I really hate being locked out of my own room. Could you open the door?”

You sat up and exhaled slowly, making sure your voice didn’t shake with your hands. “Not now.”

“Come on. Open the door.”

You stared at the door for a few moments, contemplating letting him in. You were actually dead set on it until your hand was an inch away from the door handle.

“Bro, stop being an angsty piece of shit. That’s my job.” That was certainly not Jake’s voice, and you were really glad you weren’t there to see the look of annoyance on Dave’s face.

“Dave, go to the park with John or something. Leave.”

There was a melodramatic sigh on the other side of the door followed by the sound of the front door slamming. “They’re gone,” Jake called to you.

“I know.”

You heard Jake jump back a little. “Jiminy Cricket, you’re closer to the door.”

“I know.”

“Can I come in now?” Jake prodded.

“No.”

There was another sigh, this one much more genuine. “Then, I’ll just sit out here until you’re ready to come out.” He situated himself back against the door you guessed based on the shadow at the base of the door.

You matched his position, resting your elbows on your knees that you had folded up in front of you. “You may want to set up camp then.” You exhaled slowly once again. You had avoided a full fledge meltdown. You were calm. For now.

“You and your brother don’t show much genuine emotion, but when you do, it’s a show. I hope you don’t mind me saying that, but it’s like you almost don’t have the capacity to deal with them.”

You smiled bitterly. “Yeah, I think you’re pretty spot on.”

“Do you mind me asking what this display was all about?”

“He got in a fight,” you answered tersely.

“Well, yes. But you didn’t get worked up until it affected him.”

“He’s my brother. Am I supposed to just be happy with someone hurting him?”

Jake clicked his tongue a couple of times. “Most people get angry with the person who did the hurting, not the person who got hurt.”

You felt your heart start beating faster. You were getting worked up again. “He could have gotten himself seriously hurt.”

“It was five versus one, Dirk. And the one _won_.” It didn’t matter to you though. The ‘what if’s kept nagging at you. “What more do you want?”

“I want him to think about his actions!” You slammed your head into the door. “I want him to think about what he does can affect other people! People fuck up, and it leaves you a brother down, taking care of a kid while you still don’t know what you’re doing with yourself.” It was your turn to sigh.

“Dirk…”

You laughed sardonically. “Man, I’m just saying all sorts of things that I’m not meaning to today.” You licked your lips. They were so chapped.

“I didn’t know you had another brother.”

“I don’t anymore.” You wanted nothing more than to not be having this conversation. Talking about Bro made you really uncomfortable. You felt like his ghost would reawaken, and he’d kick your ass until you were with him.

“You sound a tad -.”

“Angry?” You finished. “Angry that someone can treat me like that, and then just go out and die? Die after all of the stupid stunts he pulled? After all of the bullshit he put Dave and me through? Yeah. I guess you could say I’m a little angry. He wasn’t a nice guy, but he took care of us when our parents didn’t, and that may have been his only redeeming quality.” You started thinking about it, making sure that you had your memories straight. The only fond memories you had of him were when he acted like he was human. The more you thought about it, the more you realized you only missed him because now all of the responsibility was on you.

Jake was silent on the other side of the door. Not that you could say you were really surprised.

“You messed up, and he was right there, ready to kick your ass into the next dimension.” You pulled your knees up to your chest, holding the scars you had on your ankles from quite a few strifes with Bro. “Summer fights barefoot on the roof were his favorite.” You swallowed, thinking back to the time earned you so many blisters on the bottom of your feet that were so bad that you couldn’t walk without tearing up. “Nothing hurts more than those.”

You ran your hand through your hair over and over again. You can’t say that he hadn’t done his job at preparing you for your role in life, but you and Dave probably should have been in the hospital for some of those injuries.

“I think what the worst part is, though, is that you’re completely right. I don’t know how to deal with my emotions, and when I was worried about Dave, and I had him by the collar, I made eye contact with him, and I saw the same kind of fear he looked at Bro with. He saw me in the same way, and I don’t know how to deal with that.” You struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. “He thought I was going to hurt him.”

You slammed your head into the door again. Why did you say all of that? Why did you tell Jake that? Why were you such a terrible brother? Why, why, why? You were tearing up.

“Strider,” Jake started meekly, “I-I’m sorry. If it’s any condolence, he honestly didn’t seem that shaken up about it.”

“That’s because we’re not allowed to be. Striders are never supposed to be genuine. Striders don’t smile. Striders don’t laugh.” You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to make sure your teary eyes didn’t turn into a tear stained face. “And most importantly, Bro would always fucking say, is Striders don’t cry.” You pulled your knees closer to you and buried your face into them. “So it’s not like I’ll ever actually know.”

You felt pressure against your back from the door. You pulled your face out of your knees to see Jake attempting to push his way into the room. You scuttled out of the way, so that the door could open. The door swung open, and Jake stumbled into the room, a tad surprised to find you seated on the floor.

“You had a key,” you stated dumbly, staring at the green skull lanyard hanging from the door knob.

He nodded just as dumbly, but stayed frozen in place. You smiled at him, causing the tears in your eyes to actually stream down your face. You quickly wiped them away. “Man, English, I’m sorry about that.”

He fell to his knees next to you and pulled you into a tight a hug. As much as you’d like to say that was the end of it, that was just the beginning of a long period of heavy silence with Jake’s arms wrapped around your shoulders and your arms wrapped around his torso and your face buried in his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.


	10. Putt Putt Problems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm gonna level with you all. I'm not really into Homestuck anymore. I still adore this ship but the fandom as a whole is just kind of meh. I'm determined to finish this fic eventually don't get me wrong, but I don't know when. ALSO I would like to mention that I don't actually have a solid plan for the less developed plot points (Or i did and I just totally forgot my plan), so some of them may not be executed in the best way.
> 
> I appreciate your patience and dedication to reading this. Thank you! I love you all for your support.

Dave was walking home from school when his phone rang, and it had to be one of three people - John, Dirk, or Connie. Well since John was busy, it was really one of two people. He sighed, answering the call. 

"Dave Strider."

"Dave," Connie crooned across the line, her voice crystal clear, "would you mind telling me why your brother hasn't answered any of my calls?" Her voice took a sour tone toward the end, one that Dave had only heard when Bro had mouthed off to her. Fuck. 

"Uh, I feel like you might get a better answer asking him. He is the gate keeper to his life choices."

She chuckled quietly, not sounding as amused as the action would imply. "That's really funny, Dave. But you two are on a job, as I am sure you're aware. And if that job doesn't get finished soon, then I will come out there myself and end it."

The blood felt like it had drained from Dave's face, and on the other end there was a confident click as Connie hung up. They were officially sufficiently fucked. 

Continuing home, he called up his brother. The phone rang. And rang. And rang.

"This is Dirk Strider," Dave inhaled sharply. He actually picked up! "I'm obviously busy, so leave a message." The tone sounded, and Dave hung up.

What the fuck was he doing?

\---

"What are you doing?" You shook your head, grabbing the tiny golf club off of the rack again. "English, I don't know how you expect to have any fun here without this."

He crossed his arms. "That is for a child."

You tilted your head a bit, trying not to break into a cheeky grin. "But aren't we all children deep inside?"

Sighing, Jake started toward the course. "If everyone acted like you do, I would believe so."

You rolled your eyes, catching up to him and wrapping your arm around his waist. "Why are we insulting me? There are so many better things we could do."

"Like play mini golf." Jake glanced upward, seeming impatient despite leaning into your touch.

You let go. "Fine, fine. Let's go play mini golf."

The course was almost deserted. There was the lone customer or two a few holes down, but no one who was close enough to give a single shit about you two. Except a group of high schoolers who kept stealing glances of you and your boyfriend, but they weren't your issue. You had already decided that this was going to be the perfect date. That is if this was what a date was supposed to be like at least. You hadn't exactly had the chance to go on one before.

Your entire body felt tingly. Your breathing was shallow. Everything seemed to be in HD even though you couldn't focus on any one thing.

Anxiety was such a bitch.

"English, I hope you know that I'm fiercely competitive," you said as you placed your golf ball on the manicured plastic they called grass. "So don't take it personally when I -." Your phone vibrated in your pocket. This had to be the twelfth call today. When you got home, Dave was going to get it for handing out your cellphone number and claiming it was "Jestin Bieber" or "Zayn Milk" or whoever. The number of texts you had received was just absurd. Without even looking at the screen, you turned your phone completely off. 

Jake looked at you bemused. "Another fan or yours?"

You rolled your eyes behind your glasses though you were sure Jake still understood the motion. "I am famous, English. Just you wait. One day someone's going to see me and ask, 'hey aren't you famous?' And I'm going to have to say, 'yes, yes I am.' And that's the last you're going to see of me."

"If it's that easy to get rid of you, then I'm amazed I wasn't able to do it sooner." He looked at your club expectantly. "So, are you going to swing or just stand there looking pretty?"

"Do you really think I'm pretty?" You asked, leaning on the kid's club like a love struck giant.

"I think you're a pain," he answered tapping your foot with his normal-sized club. "If you're not going to even pretend like I'm not about to best you at putt-putt, then I don't know why we even came."

You stood up fully and cracked your knuckles. "Aw, yeah! The shittiest of talking has started!" Bumping Jake out of the way, you methodically lined your shot up and swung. You were wildly off. 

"If you can't get a hole in one on this," Jake pushed you aside, "then I don't know how you hope to beat me. The holes only get more difficult, you know." He didn't even glance over the course once before tapping - and sinking - the ball. "I believe that puts me at a score of negative one."

"Don't get cocky now," you said, scooping your ball in on top, "You have to save that for later."

He opened his mouth to reply before he understood that you had certainly just implied what later would entail. "Strider -."

"Watch out!" You pushed him to the side and caught a stray golf ball. You chucked it back to its rightful renters and turned back to Jake. "Sorry about that."

He stood up from collecting his glasses which you had knocked off, cleaning them with his shirt. "It's quite alright. I didn't even see it."

"Then you might need your prescription strengthened," you joked despite the complete lack of inflection to suggest so.

"Highly dubious," he answered. "I can see through you quite well."

Your eyebrows rose above your glasses, the only indication that you had heard him at all.

"See?" Jake said, turning away and starting for the next hole, "I've left you speechless within the first round. How could I possibly lose at this rate?"

You smiled, watching him as he strutted away. What a dork. A dork with a really great ass. 

He spun around, looking at you with such an intensity that made you wonder if you had said that aloud. "Dirk, are you coming or not?"

"At least let me buy you dinner first," you said as you sauntered up to his side. "Well, lunch at this time of day, I guess. I don't know. How big of a rush are you in?"

Eyes closed, he sighed. "This is going to be the longest game of putt putt on the planet."

You leaned in close, pressing your cheek to his and puckering your lips. "Oh, c'mon. Don't act like you don't love spending time with me."

He shied away from your theatrics, your breath tickling his face. "Stop that."

You exhaled dramatically, spinning away from him, eyes shut. "Fine. I guess I'm just going to spend the rest of my days alone, unloved, un-."

Suddenly, the left lens of your glasses shattered. A golf ball had been thrown at you, or so you assumed at least from the amount of force behind the blow. You thanked Bro for teaching you - albeit the hard way - that your shattered shades should never be able to be used as a weapon against you.

"Strider? Hello? Dirk?" Jake was standing in front of you at this point, that much you could make out with one eye. What he had said before, however, was a different story. 

"Yo," you replied, feeling pretty fucking ridiculous standing in the middle of a mini golf course with one, soon-to-be-bruised eye squeezed shut.

Jake stepped away, frowning. "Yo? Really? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you insisted, waving a hand lazily. "But I do feel like this is a sign from the heavens telling us to quit playing this game."

"You're bleeding," he muttered, his forehead creasing. Jake grabbed you by your forearm rather forcefully and stalked toward the exit. "We're going to the hospital."

That...was definitely not a good idea. There were actually an astounding number of reasons why that was a really bad idea, the top reason being the fact that you didn't technically exist according to, well, anything. "I just need to go home."

"You have pieces of glass stuck in your face, Dirk. We're going to the hospital."

"It's like tempered glass. I had the glasses special made."

"You could have glass in your eye," he shot back, his grip tightening a bit. "I'm driving to the hospital."

You pulled your arm away. "Then, I'm walking back to the apartment. I'm fine, English." You almost continued, repeating Bro's mantra, 'Now stop,' to Jake. It wouldn't have been that bad of a thing to say, but you weren't about to become your brother. 

He looked back at you, the amount of concern evident in his features. You were too stubborn for him to have any chance of winning this, and both of you knew it. "Then open your eye." You sighed. Maybe you were the only one who knew it.

"That's a really bad idea." Your eye color was sort of your defining characteristic. Amber wasn't exactly a normal eye color, and while not many people who have seen it have lived to tell the world, the information was still out there somehow.

"Because you can't see out of it! Christ on a cracker, when I find out who did this..." He clenched his fists together, too angry to continue speaking.

"It was one of the high schoolers who looked like they walked out of an Old Navy advertisement," you blurted out, hoping to get him off the topic of the hospital. "Now, can we leave before you do something stupid?"

\---

Dave was sitting outside of the apartment, playing some game that John had downloaded onto his phone and tapping his foot like a hare while he waited for the time to pass. He hadn't been given an apartment key and had been banking on Jake and Dirk being here to let him in. They weren't here. Or they were and they were just laughing at him sitting stupidly outside the apartment.

Even though his brother quite literally ignored every single one of his calls and texts, he decided to attempt one final call. Maybe the 18th call would be the charm.

Ringing.

Ringing.

"At least its ringing now," he muttered to himself as he awaited the outdated voicemail trick to try and trip him up once again.

There was the sound of shifting on the other side, signaling Dave that he finally hadn't been ignored.

"Dirk," he said hurriedly, his fear flaring up as he spoke, "we've got a situation."

"Dave, what's wrong?"

He rammed his head into the wall. Of course. "Jake? Why are you picking up my brother's phone?" Part of him guessed that his brother was off doing something stupid. The other part had already gone through the seven stages of grief.

"Because he's - keep that pressed against the cut! It's like you don't know how to treat a wound." He cleared his throat a bit before continuing. "He's holding a napkin to a cut he picked at. And also refusing to go to the hospital."

"We don't go to the hospital," Dave said plainly. "Now why -."

"What do you mean you don't go to hospitals?" Jake practically shouted through the phone. 

He heard a faint "Thank you, Dave!" in the background, followed by a very stern, "Stay out of this, Dirk."

Dave shook his head. "Why is he bleeding?"

"A stray golf ball broke his glasses."

"Oh, then he's fine," Dave concluded, saying it more for his own validation than anything else. "We've had this happen before. Just bring him back to the apartment, and I can clean it up."

"I don't need help from a twelve year old!" You protested in the background.

"Fine. Pull glass out of your own face. I really don't give a shit."

"We're in the apartment parking lot," Jake said, obviously changing the topic away from their banter. "When will you be back to manage your brother?"

"I've been stuck outside for the past forty five minutes," he deadpanned.

"Oh. We'll be right up."


End file.
